Chapter 30: Perfect Asset (Part 1)
Just give her some details, and she'll provide information on anyone entering this region?!
Gods!
This is exactly the network I've been looking for! Ian's mind raced. Who cares about optional quests anymore?
Ian had only a rough concept of how to hunt at the Crossroads Inn—he hadn't worked out the specifics yet.
For instance: How would he find reliable sellswords? How would he keep them discreet? How would he explain they were hunting people?
Then there was the matter of identifying players by their suspicious equipment. How would he confirm someone was actually a player?
Critically, how would he avoid being spotted by other players when attacking? And how would he prevent NPCs from witnessing the kill and spreading word, potentially alerting his prey?
Ian hadn't solved these problems yet. He'd been planning to figure them out as he went.
Who would've thought the perfect asset would just fall into his lap? Ian stared at Masha, making her squirm uncomfortably.
"Ser Lucien? About my proposal?"
"Oh, Masha, my friend," Ian smiled and shook his head. "I think you can be of far greater service than merely providing information."
"Greater service?" Masha looked puzzled.
Of course, far greater service. Ian's mind catalogued the possibilities. You know the local sellswords and can recruit capable men for me.
You have your own intelligence network and can monitor the entire region, flagging every suspicious stranger who stays at the inn or passes through.
As the innkeeper, you can slip dreamwine into food and quietly incapacitate unsuspecting players before they realize the danger.
You're a bloody goldmine!
"Indeed, a far greater service." Ian pushed the gold dragons on the table toward Masha. Just as she reached for them, he covered the coins with his palm.
"You said anyone entering this region—you can provide information on them. I want to know how much of that is exaggeration."
"Exaggeration? You think I'm lying? Oh no, ser, I would never—"
"How would you do it?"
"I know a man. Morgan 'Blackwing.' He commands a sellsword company. From Harrenhal to the Quiet Isle, all the sellswords and brigands on the northern shore of the Gods Eye are on good terms with him. If you want to track someone who's entered this region, just ask him and he'll have answers."
Morgan 'Blackwing'? Ian frowned. That's the second one.
First, there were the so-called Whitewalls Brotherhood. According to Masha, this outlaw band had established their lair near the ruins of Whitewalls. They'd been robbing and murdering, so the local landed knights had united against them.
Yet the knights, concerned about insufficient numbers, had asked her to recruit passing foreign knights at the inn. Clearly a formidable outlaw band, yet it never appeared in the original novels.
Now, unexpectedly, there was a sellsword captain with extensive influence across the northern shore of the Gods Eye—also absent from the original material.
This was highly unusual.
With barely a year remaining before the War of the Five Kings erupted, it made sense that such a large outlaw band and powerful sellsword captain would exist.
Yet they were nowhere in the books!
"Tell me about this Blackwing."
"What would you know?"
"Everything."
"I don't know much about him," Masha said with an awkward smile. "He arrived seven years ago. During a drunken brawl, he single-handedly killed the twin brothers who'd previously controlled the sellswords in this region. He gained fame from that and became the new leader."
"That's all?"
"That's all, ser. Why would I hide anything from you?"
"What's your relationship with him?"
"Simple partnership. He uses my inn as a base for his company. I provide them food and drink at cost, and they protect my establishment from bandits."
Your inn gets sacked anyway, Ian thought darkly. During the War of the Five Kings, Lord Tywin personally leads a twenty-thousand-man Lannister army here, using this inn as his headquarters. Then he has you hanged in retaliation for your failure to act when Catelyn Tully kidnapped Tyrion.
Even if your Blackwing were Robert Baratheon himself, he couldn't have protected your inn under those circumstances.
Come to think of it, was this man absent from the novels because he too was hanged by Tywin? Or perhaps he'd feared Lannister retaliation for his inaction during Tyrion's abduction and fled beforehand?
If that were the case, it would explain why such a figure never appeared in the books. After all, given Tywin's stature, he wouldn't specifically mention some sellsword he'd conveniently hanged or frightened off.
Wait—Blackwing, while insignificant to Tywin, would be a considerable force against local knights and the Whitewalls Brotherhood. So why would Ser Wendel seek help from foreign knights instead of this sellsword captain?
Was it because he couldn't afford the price?
Or was the outlaw band Blackwing's own creation? After all, sellswords need brigands to justify their employment. Without fighting, how would they earn their keep?
If that were true, both questions would be answered.
First, after Tywin hanged Blackwing (or scared him off), both the Blackwing company and the Whitewalls Brotherhood vanished simultaneously—absent from the novels.
Second, because most local sellswords were connected to Blackwing, Ser Wendel specifically needed "foreign knights" to prevent intelligence leaks about the operation.
But what role did Masha play in all this? She was working with Blackwing while helping Ser Wendel recruit men, and neither side suspected her?
How is that possible?!
"Ser Lucien?" Seeing Ian hadn't responded for some time, Masha began to sweat.
Hearing Masha's voice, Ian emerged from his thoughts. Then he smiled. Why overthink their arrangements? As long as Blackwing's sellswords and intelligence network can serve me, I'd better not get entangled in their secrets.
"Where can I find this Blackwing?" he asked.
"Captain Morgan is in the inn. He arrived this afternoon."
So when you said you'd have answers by noon tomorrow, you were being modest. "Can you convince him to work for me?"
"Well," Masha hesitated. "That might prove difficult. He's quite proud. We can ask for his help, but he'll need to—"
"Look at these first," Ian interrupted, slowly removing his hand from the gold dragons on the table. "Look at them. Look closely. I'd wager you've never seen this much coin at once, have you?"
"No, never." Masha's eyes were instantly magnetized to the glittering metal.
Of course she'd never seen so many dragons at once. Though the Crossroads Inn sat on a major thoroughfare, in these days of difficult travel, it rarely entertained nobility.
The usual guests were impoverished sellswords and frugal traveling merchants. The former spent freely but had little coin, while the latter had money but were loath to part with it.
Over time, the prettiest serving girls had left for King's Landing to seek their fortunes. Only a few worn women remained at the inn, and its income had become... difficult to discuss.
What's that? You're asking about legitimate business? How much profit could one make from food and ale in this era? Even that meager income had to cover taxes to the local lords and feed freeloading sellswords. Breaking even was achievement enough.
"This is twenty gold dragons," Ian said quietly. "A fortune to someone in your position. But to me?" He laughed. "I can earn this much in a single afternoon of trade. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Masha's throat worked as she swallowed. "Yes, ser."
"I need information. Reliable information about travelers—especially knights—passing through this region. I need it quickly, quietly, and accurately." Ian leaned forward. "Can you provide that?"
"With Captain Morgan's help, yes."
"Then convince him." Ian pushed half the dragons toward her. "Ten now. Ten more when he agrees to meet with me. And if this arrangement proves... fruitful? There will be more. Much more."
Masha's hand trembled as she scooped up the coins. "I'll speak with him tonight, my lord. He'll see you come morning, I swear it."
"See that he does." Ian leaned back. "Oh, and Masha? This conversation remains between us. If I discover you've shared it with anyone—anyone—those ten dragons will be the last coin you ever see. Am I clear?"
"Crystal clear, my lord."
"Excellent. You may go."
After Masha departed, practically running from the room, Rolf spoke up. "You trust her?"
"Not even slightly," Ian admitted. "But I don't need to trust her. I just need her to be more afraid of disappointing me than she is of anyone else."
"And if she warns this Blackwing about your intentions?"
Ian smiled coldly. "Then I'll know she can't be trusted, and I'll adjust accordingly. But I don't think she will. She's been scraping by in this inn for years, barely making ends meet. I've just shown her more gold than she's likely seen in months. Greed is a powerful motivator."
Kevan rumbled his agreement. "Greed makes men predictable."
"Exactly." Ian stood and moved to the window, looking out at the darkened courtyard. "Now we wait and see what morning brings."
Tomorrow would reveal whether he'd just recruited a valuable asset or identified a threat that needed elimination.
Either way, he'd learn something useful.
(End of Chapter)
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